


Scrambled eggs and Betas on the porch

by Cinder7storm4



Series: How can I trust you? [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Beacon Hills Police Department, But only 3 things, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Cooking, Deputies, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Pack Feels, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Protective Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Parent, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles Stilinski is Part of the Hale Pack, Stilinski Family Feels, Support, The Sheriff cooks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 16:18:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15368442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinder7storm4/pseuds/Cinder7storm4
Summary: Stiles and the Sheriff have breakfast together. The betas show up. The Sheriff heads to the station.





	Scrambled eggs and Betas on the porch

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

John didn’t sleep well that night. Without his usual glass or three of whisky he felt unsettled, eventually, after he woke up for the fourth time in five hours he headed downstairs to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water, then paused at the liquor cabinet, fingers curling over the handle to open it. He pulled it open and took out every, last bottle. Seven, eight, nine, ten… they sat on the counter taunting him. He screwed the cap off of the first bottle and poured it out in the sink. 

Every empty bottle made him feel lighter. 

When he was finished John gathered up the bottles and tossed them into the recycle. He didn’t need to dull anything anymore. He needed to stay on his toes and start making up for the past. 

Stiles came downstairs a little after five in the morning to find his dad drinking a cup of coffee and writing something out. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” 

Stiles nodded then realized his dad hadn’t looked up yet and couldn’t see him, “Yeah, something like that.”

“You want something to eat?” The question was asked casually, but the Sheriff’s intentions were far from casual. He looked up to watch Stiles who seemed to internally debate his father’s question. 

“I’ll make breakfast,” murmured Stiles, keeping his eyes away from his dad’s as he wandered farther into the kitchen and brought out a pan and a carton of eggs. John stood up, making sure to telegraph his movements once he noticed his son tense slightly at the movement, “I’ll help. Your mom married me in part because of my scrambled eggs,” he confided softly, catching his son by the elbow as Stiles stumbled at the out of the blue reference to Claudia. 

“I didn’t know that,” whispered Stiles as he turned away from his dad to grab some bread to make toast. 

“I never meant to keep her from you like that, Mica.”

“I know.”

They worked side by side quietly, the only sound aside from the cooking eggs and the zing of the toaster wires was an almost imperceptible humming. It was coming from Stiles, but John knew his son was likely completely unaware of what he was doing. Claudia used to do that too, hum, sing, laugh, all without really realizing it. She’d loved life so much and the people in it, Stiles and himself most of all. 

When they sat down to eat the humming continued, but John could see Stiles’ attention caught by what he had been writing. “I’m trying to set everything straight in my mind. Mind map… or whatever that’s called.”

“Makes sense. Anything you need filled in?”

“Not yet, but I am curious about something…”

“Okay, shoot.”

“I was going over the night we showed up at the Jungle,” Stiles coughed, choking slightly on his orange juice, “And I realized we hadn’t ever really talked about what you said…”

John left it open-ended, if Stiles wanted to tell him he’d be open to it, but if they weren’t there yet he would respect him. 

“What part of the evening were you…”

“Stiles,” the name was softer on the Sheriff’s lips than it had ever been in recent years. 

“Ah, that part,” Stiles stopped toying with his scrambled eggs and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, an anxious tell he’d inherited from his dad, “Well, dad, I can’t say I ever imagined this,” he kept his face ducked down and John decided to interject “I wasn’t rejecting you; you’ve got to know that, Stiles.” At that Stiles looked up and seemed to breathe deeply before blurting out “I’m bisexual.” 

John did the first thing he could think of that might reassure Stiles, and reached out to grip his son’s hand, drawing his attention away from grating his nails into the tabletop, “I love you, Mica; this doesn’t change that.”

Stiles smiled, a small, genuine smile, “Thanks Dad.”

John gave his son’s hand another tight squeeze before letting him return to eating his breakfast. He noticed that Stiles was actually eating rather than just toying with his food, “These eggs are truly amazing, pops.”

“Yeah, well, I only know how to cook three things --- scrambled eggs, chili, and potato pancakes – when your repertoire is that limited everything you make better be damn good.”

They each ate a few more bite before John decided to push his luck a bit, “So, is there anyone who has caught your eye?” He deliberately didn’t add ‘at school’ to see what Stiles would say. 

Stiles looked at him confused, “I wouldn't tell you that I accept you and then expect you to never talk about it again, son.” Another smile appeared for his troubles. 

“The supernatural keeps me busy.”

“And Lydia?”

“Totally in love with Jackson. Also, pretty sure we’re much better off as friends.”

“But you’ll keep me in the loop, if that changes?”

Stiles huffed out a laugh, “Sure, pops.”  
At that moment Stiles’ phone rang and so did John’s. 

“Sheriff Stilinski,” John stood up but didn’t leave the kitchen.

“Hello?” Stiles answered.

“Batman!” crowed a voice on the other end of the line.

“Erica? It’s like 6am.”

“I know, but I wanted to check in early,” her voice chirped, “Also, I don’t want the police to arrest us.”

John muttered a reply into his phone and then headed to the door as Stiles replied to Erica, “What?”

The Sheriff pulled open the door to find Erica, Boyd, and surprisingly, Isaac on his front porch. He stepped from the doorway and turned toward his neighbour’s house, waving his hand at the Ms. Mertens who was peeking through her curtains at the porch. She waved back and closed the curtains. The Sheriff turned back to survey the teens, who Stiles had spoken of fondly the day before, “Come on in.” He stepped back to let the trio into the house where they were met by a confused Stiles. 

“Erica, is everything okay?” 

John watched as a switch flipped within his son, the fatigue and tension that was still in his body vanished focusing all of his attention on the three betas. 

“Derek told me he said I was going to call,” replied Erica.

“Yeah, I figured call meant phone call,” Stiles shook his phone in his hand, then realizing he was still on a call with the girl in his living room ended the call. 

“Well, we can hear your heartbeat better in person,” Boyd commented, uncharacteristically volunteering information, “And, forgive us, but we thought you might try to fudge how you’re doing if we only got you on a phone call.”

Stiles was taken aback, surprised at the lengths they’d gone to check up on him. All three betas could scent his surprise, and Isaac whined lightly, which led to Stiles snapping out of his own thoughts to hold out a hand to the young beta who latched onto Stiles in a hug. John watched his son take care of the people in his pack, man, that was weird for him to think about, being part of a pack. 

“I’m…”  
“Don’t,” whimpered Isaac into Stiles’ neck, “I wasn’t fine. Neither were Erica and Boyd.”

“Hush, pup,” Stiles said, hugging Isaac a bit tighter, eventually they parted, but Isaac didn’t seem comfortable completely letting go of him yet, “Derek knows you’re here, right?”

Boyd nodded. 

Then John’s phone rang again, “Sheriff, we’ve got some paperwork that you need to see. Do you want me to drop it off at your house?” John watched as Stiles shepherded the betas into the kitchen and set about fixing coffee and some food for the trio. 

“I’ll come in for a shift today, Tara. I’d like to have a meeting with you when I get in this morning,” the Sheriff makes a snap decision and says goodbye to his deputy before going in to tell Stiles he’d be out for a bit.

He smiled when he saw Erica sitting on Boyd’s lap as she sliced bananas with her claws, that was new, but surprisingly, not freaking him out too much. Boyd was sipping his coffee and Isaac was plastered up against Stiles’ back as he mixed what looked like it was shaping up to be pancake batter. 

“Stiles,” John consciously kept himself from saying Mica, protecting his son’s name, and smiled when his son tapped Isaac on the shoulder to get the beta to keep mixing the batter before turning to look at his dad.

“Yup?”

“I’m heading into the station for a few hours. Call me if you need anything.”

“Be safe,” Stiles replied, turning back to his task when John crossed the kitchen to tuck his son into a hug, dropping a kiss on the top of his head before waving to the betas.

His dad’s hug left him feeling a bit off kilter, but as Isaac pressed back against him and Boyd, moved Erica onto a chair and tucked himself in on Stiles’ other side the young man found he could still breath steadily.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been obsessed with this Sheriff & Stiles vid for the past two days. Check it out:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5mhfdwAkIw


End file.
